


Burdens

by dogmatix, norcumi



Series: Unintended Consequences [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, GFY, Loss, M/M, Those Left Behind, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3185426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was supposed to be a good day. He’d gotten a promotion. He was going back to Kamino – back home, he reminded himself, even though it felt like a lie – to teach cadets. Unless the Seppies were incredibly stupid and tried to attack what was now one of the most fortified planets in the Republic, Rex was going to live to see the end of the war.</p><p>Unlike so many others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burdens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lynati](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynati/gifts).



> From my [Christmas prompts](http://norcumi.tumblr.com/post/103600298524/who-wants-a-christmas-gift), [Lynati](http://lynati.tumblr.com/) requested “…I want someone laying half-off a couch grumping that *they* don’t have the spoons for what they’ve just had to deal with…”
> 
> I’m so so sorry. I have a hugely one track mind lately. You get clone angst. <3 I hope this appeals to you, ESPECIALLY since this allowed me to take a one paragraph flashback I’ve gotten written, and flesh it out into an actual scene.

Rex stood in the hallway of the spaceport hub, watching the ships dance in and out of location. His transport was due soon, and he still couldn’t decide if he wanted it to hurry up, or take forever.

He didn’t usually have this sort of problem shipping out.

He shifted from foot to foot, lightly kicking his pack to make sure it was still where he’d left it. It was less nervous gesture and more general discomfort. He tugged the dark gloves of his dress grays snug, fighting the urge to roll his shoulders to make certain the sleeves fit right for combat, if need be.

Little gods, he hated being out of armor. This was almost as bad as being in civvies.

“Major!”

Rex straightened automatically, shoulders snapping back as he spun. Anakin has spotted a superior offi–?

General Skywalker was grinning at _him_.

Oh.

He relaxed and tried to grin back. “General. Still not used to that.”

Anakin sauntered up the hallway to him, grin fading into the half smirk that was usually the best he could manage for humor lately. “Well, you stuck with “Captain” for forever, maybe you could try being “Commander” for awhile instead?”

He let the vaguely amused snort answer that bit of idiocy, appreciating the way Anakin’s grin widened. Rex had been a Commander almost as long as Cody, but he left the formalities to the more rigid clone. He _liked_ being a Captain. It was familiar, and at the time it had been a smart idea to not bother with honorifics. The clankers had been starting to employ more snipers around the same time, and they loved looking for clones that got saluted a lot.

“Nah, not with the reputation we got. I’m just skipping right to Major.”

“Good for you.” The humor fell flat, as the ghosts in the room loomed larger.

“Their” reputation wasn’t going to exist anymore, not except as “No shit” stories by the old hands, or tales to awe the shinies. He could readily imagine it, his replacement striding through the newly filled out ranks. Bragging about their long and bloody history, under General Skywalker and Captain Rex.

He shoved the mental image away with an internal wince.

This was supposed to be a _good_ day. He’d gotten a promotion. He was going back to Kamino – _back home_ , he reminded himself, even though it felt like a lie – to teach cadets. Unless the Seppies were incredibly stupid and tried to attack what was now one of the most fortified planets in the Republic, he was going to live to see the end of the war.

Unlike so many others.

Echo, in that hope shattering explosion in the Citadel.

Obi-Wan, missing for three weeks now, disappeared without a trace.

Tup, mad and broken, his body giving up after his mind was gone.

Fives, half mad or more, breathing his last in Rex’s arms, shot by a brother.

Gods, there’d been too many losses lately. He tried to shake off the melancholy, but the empty space to Anakin’s side, where Ahsoka should be, weighed his shoulders down even more. In some ways, her absence was even worse, since there was no death, no funeral services to help a brother move on. He couldn’t even chant her name in remembrance, because she was just _gone_ , not dead.

For a moment he had to fight the urge to kick over his pack, round on General Skywalker, and rip the new pips from his uniform. _Fuck this, I’m staying_.

He couldn’t. Little gods and Force help him, he couldn’t. Rex glanced over at his General, the man standing near his shoulder with a small, broken smile on his face, trying so hard to be strong. The stress of war had been bad lately. Even before General Kenobi’s disappearance, Anakin had been…volatile. The moments of rage that usually needed the spark of an outside threat to friends and troops came more often, and from no ignition source that Rex could see. It wasn’t defensive, protective rage, it was just… _anger_. Moments of melancholy, even bitterness had begun to show up with increasing frequency, touches of strange mania coming from who the hell knew where –

Everything was falling apart.

He couldn’t disrupt things more. He didn’t dare. The GAR thought his talents were best used teaching shinies on Kamino. He’d checked out his replacement, and Appo was qualified enough. Sure, the man had as much personality as a stunted brick, but time and exposure to General Skywalker would solve that.

Trying to stick it out would cause huge snarls in the war machine, and make things much, much worse when some higher up realized that the 501st had two commanders running around – not that Rex would let Appo do much; Torrent was _his_.

… _Had_ been his.

He had to let go. Make a clean break. No more lingering mysteries. When would Obi-Wan come back ( _Never_ , something inside him screamed, probably the same thing that had led Anakin to confessing he couldn’t find Kenobi in the Force), when would Rex get the ax and be forcibly removed to Kamino?

Anakin didn’t need that kind of stress. Rex’s best move would be to do whatever would help win the war faster, and that meant getting more, _better_ soldiers into the field.

He knew his duty.

Even if he hated it.

“So.” Anakin was tracking the troop transport that was spiraling in. On time for once.

_Go away. Get delayed forever._

Unsurprisingly, the ship kept coming in.

“Looking forward to not getting shot at?”

“You’ve obviously never taught cadets before, sir.”

Anakin snickered. “Can’t say I’ve had the privilege.” The General turned to him, eyes a little desperate, voice a little wistful. “Seriously, Rex. Are you looking forward to this?”

Almost anyone but a Jedi, he would have lied.

Not to this man, though. Even if Anakin hadn’t been able to read his emotions like an open book, Rex would always choose to be as open as possible. “No. But it’s my job. We all have to carry on and win the war, no matter how much we may or may not like it.”

Anakin broke eye-contact with a sigh, a hand going up to settle on Rex’s shoulder as they watched the shuttle land. The incoming troops – so many of them in unmarked shiny whites – disembarked without the roughhousing or camaraderie he was used to seeing. That took time to develop, time to be comfortable showing individuality to the world.

How much time _did_ they have? Anakin’s hand tightened a little on his shoulder, as if he could hear it – maybe he did. The maintenance techs made short work of refueling the shuttle, unloading cargo and loading up the return shipment.

The green light for loading passengers blinked on. Four other clones sauntered forward from other hallways, giving the Jedi a wide berth. Anakin ignored them, walking casually with Rex until they were at the shuttle itself. Rex settled his pack and faced his General – fuck what the paperwork said, Anakin _was_ and would remain his General. “It’s been an honor, Sir.” He didn’t salute, he _wouldn’t_ salute; that wasn’t Anakin, wasn’t _them_ , and it would feel like something permanent.

General Skywalker stepped forward, clasping wrists with him, then using that hold to pull him into an embrace. “I’m gonna miss you, Ca – _Major_. Stay safe, okay?” His voice was husky, almost breaking, and Rex held on for as long as he dared.

Jedi. As soon as Rex decided he needed to let go, Anakin was pulling back, now with a painfully fake grin. “Send me some good soldiers, all right?”

“I’ll earmark the best for you, sir. Send ‘em out in 501 blues, so you can pick ‘em out easy.”

The laugh was _almost_ natural, which he decided to mark down as a win. Rex waved, casual as he could, as he stepped into the transport. Since he was the highest ranked clone there, the others had crowded together at the back, politely gossiping with each other as if he hadn’t just been clinging to one of the premier Jedi in the war.

Rex took the couch near one of the tiny viewports, sitting down and letting his legs stretch out into the aisle since there was more than enough room for them all to take up a fuckton of space. He sighed and slumped further down on the seat, glaring out the window without seeing a damn thing. He was too fucking tired for this shit. How the hell was he supposed to _deal_ with all this? Pulled, tugged in too many directions, too many demands placed on his shoulders. He was strong, he was a soldier, but –

He was no god, able to tackle whatever came his way.

He was no Jedi, master of the Force and his own fate.

He was just a man. Just a man, who was horribly alone.

The engines kicked in, lifting the shuttle up into traffic heading space-ward. He kept staring, letting his eyes focus on General Skywalker, who had remained on the landing pad. The dark cloak the General favored whipped around, frantic motion around a statue of a man.

He desperately hoped Anakin wasn’t reading his emotions by then, because something inside him simply seized up. He felt breathless, wounded, utterly at the end of his rope.

There were other soldiers in the shuttle with him. Rex stayed at the window, somehow using the last bits of his self control to keep up a neutral expression – and what would it have been, otherwise? He didn’t know, all he knew was that it would be ugly, and – not that. Not now, not today, it was supposed to be a fucking _good_ day.

He wasn’t sure if it was strength, or weakness, that kept him watching Anakin as long as the man was visible, _certain_ that the General was doing the same to the shuttle.

It was only when they pulled out of atmosphere, Coruscant’s lights glimmering across the stars, that he slouched back and closed his eyes.

Rex felt numb, now, without the General’s emotional distress hammering away at his composure.

He stayed slumped on the couch the entire flight, doing his best to think about nothing at all.


End file.
